Protecting Hope
by AzureSkye23
Summary: Gilraen and Glorfindel. Unalike at first glance, they both have given everything they have to protect the hope of Middle Earth. Sequel to Midsummer though it can stand alone.


**Sequel to Midsummer, but all you need to know is that Gilraen and Glorfindel are friends.**

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><p>Gilraen tossed the embroidery down, slamming her head back against the wall behind her. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily.<p>

"My lady?"

The voice was musical and male. Spoken in a light tone, it nonetheless held the weight of years. A voice that could soothe a child, or command troops in battle. Gilraen opened her eyes to see the golden form of Glorfindel in front of her, looking slightly concerned.

She gave him a half smile to reassure him she was alright. She studied the golden haired elf lord in front of her. She had learned a good deal about his history from her son's lessons and from his own stories.

"Did you resent Gondolin's isolation?" She asked abruptly. The Balrog-slayer raised a golden eyebrow and sat on the bench next to her.

"No, but I wasn't pulled from my home and placed there with a people not my own," he said gently. "Gondolin's isolation practiced us from most of the horrors that the other exilic kingdoms faced," he explained gently. "And it was truly beautiful," he added in an undertone.

"Imladris is beautiful. But it isn't home." Gilraen sighed, a little ashamed of her attitude. "But it protects Estel, so I shouldn't resent it." She said firmly, though she was unsure who she was trying to convince.

Glorfindel tapped his fingers against his thighs thoughtfully. "For many long ages I resented the fall of Gondolin. I still have not forgiven Maeglin for his treachery. Yet that night, I too was protecting hope, though I knew it not," he smiled, reminiscing. "It is comforting to know that in his greatest triumph Morgoth planted the seeds of his own destruction."

Gilraen snapped her head up. "How so?" she asked. Morgoth had been overthrown when the Valar had interceded in the War of Wrath. Indeed, she had never heard one of the greatest tragedies of the first age linked to Morgoth's overthrow, its greatest triumph.

"If Gondolin had not fallen, Eärendil never would have gone to the Havens of Sirion. He never would have met and married Elwing, and they never would have made it to Valinor to plead the case of those in Middle-earth. My death, and the deaths of my friends and my warriors made that possible." Glorfindel said simply.

"When you put it like that…" Gilraen muttered. Glorfindel laughed, light and musical.

"Ah, but Lady Gilraen, yours is the harder task. It is easy to die for something or someone you care about, but it is much harder to live for them. I died to protect hope. You must live to protect it," he looked at her, with eyes older than the sun, shining with things no other on Middle Earth had seen.

Gilraen looked down at her hands, twisted together in her lap. How could she explain how she felt?

"I love my son, but even if he lives up to everything we hope, I will still feel alone and homesick. Even if I return to my people." For her, home was no longer a place. It was a person. As was hope.

"If I am not very much mistaken My Lady, your hope lies beyond the circles of Arda." Glorfindel said gently. Gilraen nodded mutely, as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She would not cry! She had to be strong.

"I know not the fate of Men, but you will be reunited with Arathorn someday. And then your hope will be fulfilled." Glorfindel continued, almost shattering Gilraen's resolve not to cry.

"How can you know?" she said, barely above a whisper.

Glorfindel sighed softly. "Not even the Valar know what fate awaits beyond the circles of Arda. Yet death was called a gift, before men feared it."

Gilraen nodded. "I know the tales of Númenor, how its people could choose the time of their death, and willingly surrendered their lives when it was time." She smiled ruefully. "My line is pure enough I could probably do the same."

Glorfindel nodded. "It is said that in the long ages to come, the Firstborn and the Valar will envy Men for their escape. It is truly a gift from Ilúvatar to the Secondborn. And I do know that Eru loves his children. I cannot believe that death would sunder you from those you love."

"Unless you're Peredhil." Gilraen said sardonically.

Glorfindel inclined his head. "Yet who knows what awaits at the end of all things, when Arda is Renewed? I cannot think that even the separation of the Firstborn and Aftercomers will endure then."

"Perhaps." Gilraen said simply. "But that day is a long way off."

Glorfindel inclined his head gracefully, conceding the point. They sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to the soft sounds that pervaded Imladris.

"Nana! Nana!" the near silence was shattered with the excited calls of an almost teenage mortal. Gilraen sighed slightly exasperated, and Glorfindel laughed softly.

"I'm starting to agree that living for Hope is harder," she told Glorfindel lightly, who merely laughed harder. "Was Eärendil this bad?" she asked the laughing ellon, who nodded.

"Worse." Glorfindel told her. "Remind me to tell you about the time he decided that swimming in the fountains was a good idea." Gilraen raised an eyebrow at that.

"I could see Estel doing something like that," she remarked, as she went off to see what her son had for her now.

Glorfindel smiled and stood up, moving off to the stables. Yes, he decided. He had experienced both, and life was much harder than death. Still, the young mortal women who carried the grace of a queen was more than capable of rising to the challenge.


End file.
